


Lose Lose

by myenduringheart



Category: EXO (Band), Z.Tao (Musician)
Genre: M/M, age gap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-06-02 18:14:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6577222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myenduringheart/pseuds/myenduringheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a game between them, but Minseok isn't sure who's playing who.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lose Lose

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2016 round of [Seokmonsters](http://seokmonsters.livejournal.com/).

"We have a situation," Minseok's assistant, Kyungsoo, whispers, interrupting his conversation with one of his directors. Minseok presses his lips together tightly, half tempted to hiss _not now_ , but one look at Kyungsoo's expression makes him swallow the words. 

He excuses himself gracefully, stepping away with Kyungsoo out of the crowd to a quiet corner. "What is it?" he asks impatiently. 

This party is the culmination of months of work, showcasing the launch of a new product line, with his most important clients, key stakeholders and all of the directors from his Board in attendance. A _situation_ is not desired.

Kyungsoo gestures across the room, just as a high pitched giggle travels across to Minseok's ears, making his shoulders tense involuntarily. They tighten even further when he sees what Kyungsoo referred to as a "situation"- _it_ is a he, a person. Although he's in a suit like everyone else, it's a bright blue and tightly fitted, marking him conspicuously out of place. He's stunning, a butterfly floating around moths, and obviously a gatecrasher. 

_He_ is engaged in conversation with another man, one that Minseok recognises as Mr Choi, one of his most important clients. Even from across the room Minseok can see how intimate the conversation is, the way they both have their heads bowed together, and he watches as the young man runs a hand across Mr Choi's chest, down his arm, all the while giving the sweetest, most charming of looks. 

And Minseok keeps watching as the man steals the watch straight off Mr Choi's wrist.

"Should I call security?" Kyungsoo asks. 

"No. I'll take care of him," Minseok replies, eyes still glued to them, thinking through the best way to deal with the problem. Mr Choi is usually a smart man, but he seems to have no idea of what's happening - his cheeks pink and expression flattered - as if he genuinely believes he's being flirted with. 

The young man lets out another peal of laughter, brushing lightly and almost imperceptibly at Mr Choi's pockets, and Minseok determines it's time to stop this. 

He crosses the room, depositing his empty glass with a passing waiter before reaching the couple, and plasters on his most sincere smile. "Mr Choi," he calls, hand already outstretched. They shake hands as the young man stands to one side, sipping on a tumbler filled with a splash of dark liquid. "Thanks for coming tonight, it's such a pleasure to have you here. You know - I was just with your wife," Minseok lies smoothly. "She was looking for you."

To Mr Choi's credit, he does actually look ashamed. He straightens, smoothing down the lapels of his suit. "Ah. I better -- ahh --" He turns to the young man, clearing his throat and saying apologetically, "I'm sorry, I have to --" he waves a hand awkwardly, and even Minseok feels sorry for him, "-- it was nice talking to you."

They all know that Mr Choi wanted to do more than talk, but they are all good at pretending, and Minseok keeps the smile plastered on his face. 

When Mr Choi is out of hearing range, the young man beside Minseok lets out a little laugh, his eyes alight with amusement. Minseok shakes his head in disbelief, more in amusement at his boldness than anything else, knowing that he lifted Mr Choi's wallet while Minseok had him distracted.

"You should be careful of who you steal from," Minseok tells him. "You don't want to make enemies of these people."

A normal person, being caught stealing, might react with defiance, or faux innocence. Perhaps even outrage or surprise at being caught. But apparently there's nothing about this man that's normal. He giggles, literally giggles, as if Minseok has told him the most amusing joke. 

It's completely disarming, and any annoyance that Minseok has vanishes. He finds himself laughing, even as he realises this situation is ridiculous. He can't have him here, not around these people. He should call security, have him thrown out, and yet…

"I don't think we've met," the boy says, his gaze flirtatious as he looks down at Minseok with half hooded eyes, holding out his hand and wriggling his fingers at him until Minseok takes them. 

The boy's touch is delicate, and even though Minseok can't feel anything, he knows there's questing fingers at his wrist. It's a good thing he doesn't wear a watch.

"And you are?" the boy prompts, his smile wearing a touch of smugness, and Minseok resists the urge to roll his eyes.

"Minseok."

"Minseok. It's nice to meet you. I'm Zitao."

"How did you get into this party, Zitao? You don't have an invite."

If he's surprised at being found out, Zitao doesn't show it. "How do you know that?"

"Because," Minseok replies, leaning in closer, conspiratorially, blocking Zitao from the view of anyone else in the room with his body, close enough to catch a whiff of his cologne. "I'm the one who sent out the invites, and I know that I didn't send you one." 

Zitao grins, unperturbed by Minseok's closeness or his words. "You don't recall sending out my invite?" he teases. "Maybe you just forgot. I'm sure you're a _very_ busy man." 

Things Minseok should be doing: networking, making sure everyone is having a good time, returning Mr Choi's wallet. 

Things Minseok _shouldn't_ be doing: flirting with a gatecrashing pickpocket.

And yet here he is - amused and entertained rather than annoyed. There's a gold earring dangling from Zitao's lobe, and he wants to run his tongue along the shell, has a quick mental image of Zitao flushed and begging beneath him. He suppresses the desire, taking a step back, asking instead, "Do you think it's fun to steal from the rich?"

Zitao tosses his head haughtily. "I don't steal."

Minseok raises a disbelieving eyebrow and Zitao grins, revising his comment. "I prefer to call it redistribution. But this isn't my regular thing - it's just a bit of fun." He takes another sip of his drink and holds his hand between them, opening his palm. "I suppose I should give these back to you." Minseok's diamond cufflinks sparkle in the middle of Zitao's palm, almost as brightly as Zitao's dark eyes. 

Minseok closes Zitao's fingers around the cufflinks. "Keep them."

For that he gets a little wink, and they disappear into Zitao's pocket. Minseok wonders what else he has squirrelled away in there. 

"I have to tell you something," Zitao says. 

"Yes?"

Now it's Zitao's turn to lean in to speak conspiratorially into Minseok's ear, "Your party's _really_ boring."

The sheer audacity of this kid - to gatecrash Minseok's party and tell him to his face that it's boring. Laughter bubbles up inside Minseok, rising up far enough to cause him to throw his head back and laugh. 

"You're right," he tells Zitao when he finally stops, when Zitao has stopped laughing with him. "It _is_ boring. Want to get out of here?" He makes sure that Zitao can feel the heat of his gaze, the invitation in his eyes. 

"Are you inviting me back to your place?" Zitao asks, practically batting his eyelashes in a faux show of coyness. "Aren't you worried that I'll steal something?"

"Will you?" Minseok shoots back. 

Zitao grins at him, lips curling in a cat like smile that promises so, so much. "Only if you have something worth taking." 

Minseok slides a finger down the sharp line of Zitao's jaw and thinks that he's the one who'll be doing the taking. He sends Kyungsoo a quick text, _you're in charge_ before dialling his driver. 

"I'm ready to leave," he says when the call is picked up. "See you out the front in ten minutes." He quickly scans the room to see if anyone is watching before turning his attention back to Zitao, hooking an arm around his waist to lead him out. "Shall we go?"

 

*

 

Minseok's driver clears his throat loudly, and Minseok surfaces for air, realising that they've pulled into the garage underneath his house. 

Zitao giggles from underneath him, mouth wet and slick, and although Minseok is embarrassed that his driver caught him making out like a teenager, when he catches his eye in the rear view window his expression is neutral. Minseok makes a mental note to include a hefty bonus in his salary this year. 

"Thanks for driving," Zitao sings as he steps out, pressing an expensive watch into the driver's hand as he holds the door open. The other man seems to have settled into a wry amusement, although he very graciously thanks Zitao, and Minseok mentally doubles the bonus he's going to give him. 

As soon as they're upstairs, Zitao heads straight to the floor to ceiling doors that open to the house's wrap around balcony. "This view is amazing," he exclaims, all but pressing his face to the glass.

Minseok lives on the beach, and had purchased this property based on one thing: the ocean view. Although it's currently dark outside it's still beautiful, lights of boats twinkling as they bob up and down in the dark expanse of water. If Zitao is impressed with the view he has good taste. Expensive taste. 

Minseok presses a switch on the wall, flooding the mostly white interior with light, and Zitao turns away from the window, watching with interest as Minseok pulls his dinner jacket off, draping it neatly over the back of his leather couch. 

"This view is even better," Minseok jokes, mostly because he knows it will make Zitao laugh, and sure enough he does. Minseok really likes that sound. 

"You're right," Zitao tells him, crossing over to undo Minseok's bowtie as Minseok slides an arm around his waist. He's so tall that he towers over Minseok but somehow Minseok likes it. "It IS better. But I wonder what the view from your bedroom is like?"

He's so damn cocky. Minseok has always had a thing for arrogant boys, has always enjoyed the challenge that comes with them. 

"What if I wanted to fuck you here? On your hands and knees in the middle of the room? Or maybe against the window where anyone looking up could see?" 

Zitao lets out a peal of amused laughter, ducking his head so he can talk into Minseok's ear, his breath making Minseok shiver. "And what if you did?"

 

*

 

They end up in the bedroom.

The blinds are open, allowing the room to be lit by moonlight, but Minseok wishes he had turned on a lamp when Zitao starts to strip, dropping his clothes carelessly to the floor. Minseok, propped against the headboard, watches intently as more and more skin is exposed, is intrigued when he sees light glinting off Zitao's chest. When Zitao's naked - a gorgeous, stunning sight - he crawls on the bed towards Minseok, eventually straddling his lap. His hands come up to work on undoing Minseok's shirt, impatiently pushing the material off his shoulders. 

Minseok can't decide where he wants to put his mouth - Zitao's lips or his left nipple where a diamond piercing gleams. Zitao makes his mind up for him when he cups his jaw, pulling him in for a searing kiss. Minseok curls his hands around Zitao's waist, rocking against him, already hard in his pants. 

"Off," Zitao says impatiently, tugging at Minseok's belt. "You're wearing too much." Minseok lifts his ass off the bed so Zitao can strip away his pants and underwear, tossing them to the floor. "You were right," Zitao tells him as he crawls back into his lap, running his hands up Minseok's bare chest to curl around the back of his neck. "This view is much, much better." 

Minseok would roll his eyes at the cheesiness but Zitao has claimed his mouth again, lips parting as his kisses grow increasingly demanding, hands mapping the skin along Minseok's back. Zitao grinds himself against him with a slow roll of his hips, knowing exactly the effect he's having. He's tantalising, sensual, and Minseok, unusually, loses himself to his kisses, the slow grind, until Zitao pulls back. 

"Lube?"

Minseok digs in the drawer next to him for the bottle and a condom, tossing both items on the bed. 

"Watch," Zitao requests, still straddling him but lifting himself up a little. He bites down on his lip as he reaches down to prep himself, letting out a moan as he slides a finger inside. Minseok does watch, couldn't stop himself if he wanted to, fisting his cock tightly as Zitao puts on a show of fingering himself open. 

He's stunning, and Minseok _wants_. 

Once satisfied that Zitao has prepped himself properly, Minseok rolls on the condom, and Zitao lifts himself into position, lowering himself slowly onto Minseok's cock, eyes closing as he bottoms out with a low moan. He rides him with graceful, fluid motions, controlled and leisurely, as if he could do this all night. Minseok tries to encourage him to go harder, faster, but Zitao refuses to relinquish control of his infuriatingly slow pace. His only response to Minseok's encouragement is to bring a hand up to toy with his piercing, throwing his head back to expose the long line of his throat. 

"Stop teasing," Minseok groans, gripping his hips tightly as he thrusts upwards, and Zitao lets out a little giggle in between gasps as Minseok does his best attempt to take over, bouncing him up and down in his lap. Minseok can't take much more of this, Zitao is hot and tight around his cock and it feels amazing, but it's not enough. 

Zitao isn't ready when Minseok flips him on to his back, hitting the bed with a small _oof_ , but he doesn't complain when Minseok slides in deep to bury himself to the hilt, saying "Yes, yes, oh fuck _yes_."

Minseok presses one of Zitao's legs up to his chest, and Zitao wraps the other one around Minseok's lower back, heel digging in to bring him even closer. He's _so_ vocal, encouraging, moaning out Minseok's name in between filthy phrases, getting increasingly louder and louder with every snap of Minseok's hips, each slapping of skin on skin. He snakes a hand between their bodies, jerks himself off in rhythm to Minseok's thrusts, and Minseok can tell that he's close by all the tension in his body, each muscle tight and taut. 

For someone who's so loud while being fucked, Zitao is remarkably quiet when he comes, just a bitten off moan and a shudder, burying his face into Minseok's neck as he spurts over his hand. Minseok follows soon after, using Zitao's body to chase his own orgasm, coming intensely but no less quietly. 

Afterwards, Zitao excuses himself to go to the bathroom, and Minseok lies on his back, wondering what on earth he's doing. 

He doesn't get much time to dwell because Zitao returns, face cleaned of makeup and smelling like soap. He climbs back into bed, curling himself up and tangling their legs together, all pliant and cuddly now that he's come. 

"You know," Minseok says after a while, running a hand down his back as he adjusts Zitao's weight slightly to bring him closer, "You're such a brat. If you wanted my attention, you could've just called me. I didn't know you could pickpocket." 

"I have many skills you're not aware of, Mr Kim," Zitao all but purrs. 

Minseok reaches up to tug at his piercing, twisting it between his fingers until Zitao lets out a whine, until Minseok is satisfied that the insolence has leaked out of him. "When did you get this?" 

"If you hadn't been so busy," Zitao gasps as Minseok continues to play with the bar through his nipple, "and _selfish_ , you'd know that I've had it for over a month." 

Minseok feels a touch guilty at that, because it's true. Their last few trysts had been hurried, Zitao blowing him in a movie theatre, Minseok fucking him fully clothed in a bathroom stall at a club, a hand job under the table at a fancy restaurant. Zitao deserves better. But instead of apologising - because he never does - he tugs Zitao down for a kiss, pouring into it all the words he can't say. He knows Zitao understands when he softens, melts into him, sighs into his mouth in a way that makes Minseok's heart ache. 

"I love you," Zitao tells him, his eyes soft with his sincerity, his vulnerability. It's the first time he's ever said those words and it would send a shiver down Minseok's spine if he wasn't always so tightly controlled. 

"Thank you," Minseok replies, and it's a measure of what Minseok has taught him - to expect so terribly little - that Zitao doesn't even look disappointed at his response. He's the one who indirectly forces Zitao to play these games. Zitao deserves more, and yet - Minseok is selfish, as he said. Too selfish to let him go and too selfish to give him what he deserves. 

Zitao was only meant to be a one night stand, a rare indulgence. Minseok had been surprised when Zitao had approached him in the club, had been suspicious of his intentions. Except Zitao had this way about him - a somewhat naive sincerity that Minseok found disarming and although only intended to be a once off, Minseok had been captivated from the beginning. There's something about Zitao that draws him in, commands his attention, something that ensures that whenever they're together Minseok sees and thinks of little else. It makes Minseok take risks that he would otherwise never take, it makes him skip out on a party he should be present at. It's a kind of madness. 

(And yet, when they're not together Minseok does his best not to think about Zitao at all. He's never introduced Zitao to anyone he knows, treating him like an illicit, awful secret. Zitao says "I love you" and Minseok's only response is "Thank you". After almost a year, Minseok still calls this thing between them an _arrangement_. This, also, is a kind of madness.)

Minseok has almost fallen asleep when Zitao asks softly, "If things were different, would you --" and the question jerks him into full awakeness. 

"They're not different," he replies, because Minseok has always been a person of action, not a person who wishes for things to be something else, not someone who lives life through a veil of daydreams. Zitao falls silent, and Minseok regrets his sharp tone, kissing him on the cheek as if that would make up for it. 

Zitao goes to sleep before him, murmuring quietly and tucking his face into Minseok's shoulder, his breathing gentle and steady. He's different asleep; his softness coming to the surface: eyelashes long against the top of his cheeks, face relaxed and clear. It's moments like these that remind Minseok of how young he is, how much of life he hasn't yet lived, despite how weary and streetwise he acts, because he's still ready to give his heart away to someone who doesn't deserve it. 

It's regretful, and a bit sad, and Minseok slips into sleep resolving to do better by him. 

 

*

 

The bed is cold when Minseok wakes up.

"Zitao?" he calls as he climbs out of bed, stretching and cracking his back with a wince. "Tao?" Zitao never wakes early, normally staying in bed long after Minseok has gotten up, sleepily demanding that he return for cuddles until Minseok caves and indulges him, as he does in many things. 

His house is quiet, obviously empty, and he finds a note waiting for him on the kitchen counter, quickly scrawled on the back of a receipt, his diamond cufflinks set on top. He nudges them aside so he can read the writing underneath.

_Sorry_ is all the note says, and Minseok can't help but wonder - for _what_? 

 

*

 

It's only later that Minseok realises what the apology is for, when his messages to Zitao remain unanswered, when his phone call is met with a robotic " _I'm sorry. This number has been disconnected_ ".

For something that was only ever meant to be about sex, Minseok is aware too late that he is hopelessly hooked - was hooked a long time ago. 

(And it's only now that he realises that he doesn't know where Zitao lives. He's never met any of Zitao's friends or family. He doesn't even know his last name. He hadn't considered that - all this time - Zitao was also keeping him at a distance.) 

He hires a private investigator, meeting with him weeks later in a cafe close to Minseok's office. 

The PI slides an envelope across the table, between their coffee cups, and Minseok eyes it. "You have his address?"

"Address, full name, friends, family," the PI confirms. When Minseok reaches for the envelope, the PI moves it just out of reach, saying, "Is this for revenge? I have nothing against you teaching him a lesson, but if you kill him I don't want it traced back to me." 

Minseok stares at him as if he's grown an extra head. "Kill him? What?"

Now it's the PI's turn to be confused. "It's not for revenge? He hasn't stolen from you?"

"What are you talking about?"

"That's his thing - isn't it? He seduces older men and women, and then he cleans them out? You're not one of his victims?" 

Minseok is speechless, unsure of how to respond. He snatches the envelope, ripping it open and pulling out the contents. 

"I can't believe this," he mutters to himself as he reads over the paperwork, except he's lying. He _can_ believe it, all the pieces starting to fall into place. Zitao has always been flashy, extravagant - but Minseok had never asked what he does, how he supports himself. 

There were so many things that Minseok never asked in an attempt to protect himself, to pretend that Zitao was someone he didn't really care about. 

The PI clears his throat and Minseok comes back to the present. "Right. Yeah." He hands over the payment, with a distracted _thanks_ and the other man leaves. 

It's only on his way back to the office that he realizes how angry he is, how stupid he feels for being taken in by a pretty face, a hot body. Had Zitao ever cared for him? Had he just been lying? Or did he go home and laugh to himself - amused that he'd tricked another person. 

He's in a mood for the rest of the day and finally Kyungsoo snaps and corners him in his office after he's finished chewing out of his employees. "What's wrong with you?" Kyungsoo seethes, his face like thunder. "Baekhyun made a mistake, but it wasn't bad enough for you to berate him in front of everyone." 

Minseok looks up from his desk and scowls at his assistant but Kyungsoo is on a roll. "You know, you've been an asshole for weeks, ever since the party. You better get your head out of your ass soon!" His eyes flicker to the paperwork that Minseok had carelessly thrown upon his desk when he'd returned from the cafe. "What's this?" 

Kyungsoo manages to grab it before Minseok has a chance, holding it out of his reach as he reads. "You had someone investigated?" he asks disbelievingly. "Who is this guy?"

"No one," Minseok grumps but Kyungsoo is too perceptive for his lies, that's why he hired him.

"This is the guy from the party," he exclaims in realisation after flipping through the included photos, and Minseok wishes that he'd burned those papers. Kyungsoo finds the link far too easily. "You left that evening with him. What happened?"

Being one person that Minseok trusts almost implicitly, having worked together for close to a decade, it doesn't take long for Kyungsoo to get the whole story. 

"Wow," Kyungsoo just says after Minseok has finished. "Out of everyone, you'd be the last person I would've guessed to have a secret toy boy."

"Not helpful," Minseok points out. 

"So… how much did he steal? Have you gone to the police?"

Minseok runs a hand through his hair, pulling at it slightly. "That's the thing - he hasn't taken anything. Nothing that I can see." Nothing in his house has been touched, and neither have his accounts. If Zitao had intended to clean him out surely he would've had ample opportunity to do so? 

"It could be part of some twisted plan."

"Maybe..."

Kyungsoo sighs, that sigh he does when someone is going to do something that he thinks is stupid. Minseok doesn't often hear it directed at him. "You're going to go and see him, aren't you?" When Minseok doesn't respond, he shakes his head. "You know it's a _really_ bad idea - he's obviously incredibly manipulative. If he's gone, then let it go."

Kyungsoo's right - and Minseok knows it. But it's so much easier to give advice than to take it. 

 

*

 

Minseok doesn't know what he expected, but Zitao lives in an older, well established, neighbourhood that's quiet and popular with families. The address that the PI has given him corresponds to a single storey standalone, in a street that's lined with tall leafy trees and houses with well manicured front lawns. 

He's thought of a little speech but when Zitao opens the door, every thought flies out of his head. 

"What are you doing here?" Zitao stutters, unknowingly having lifted a hand to his chest in surprise. "How did you know?" 

"Can I come in?" Minseok asks after he's finished drinking in the sight of him. He's dyed his hair - the dark red now a jet black - and it's getting long, his fringe flopping almost into his eyes. He's dressed casually, in grey sweats, and completely jewellery free. Minseok has never seen him like this before. He could almost pass for a teenager rather than the devious schemer that he is. 

"I don't… I don't think that's a good idea." 

"Do you really want to have this conversation on your front door step?"

Zitao frowns and Minseok can see him tossing up the options before heaving a sigh and stepping aside to let him in. Minseok removes his shoes at the front entrance, and they walk down the hallway in silence until they reach the living room. 

There's a young man sitting on the sofa, laptop on his knees, and he looks up when they enter. "Everything okay, Taozi?" he asks, and even though his voice is low and soft, there's a warning in there for Minseok. 

"Yeah, fine. Can you leave us alone for a moment?" 

The man closes his laptop, unfurling himself from the sofa, and he's almost as tall as Zitao. "Sure. I need to go down to the shop and get some milk anyway. Call me if you need anything, okay?" Minseok doesn't miss the way he gives him a long appraising look before giving Zitao a brief hug. 

After he's left Zitao gestures to the sofa, and Minseok sinks into it, Zitao perching himself on the armchair opposite. "You wanted to talk - talk."

Minseok has so many things he wants to say, wants to ask, but the only thing that comes out is, "Is that your boyfriend?"

Zitao practically rolls his eyes. "What does it matter?" But his body language is at odds with his derisory tone, spine taut and tight, and he picks nervously at his nails. "How did you even find me?"

"I had someone look for you."

Now Zitao does roll his eyes. "Of course you did."

Minseok licks his lips and tries to think back to the speech he'd prepared, the things that had seemed so important to say. "I was told something interesting about you - what you do to people. Was that what you had planned for me? Was I meant to be one of your victims?"

Zitao visibly bristles. "I haven't taken anything from you."

"But you stole from others." 

Zitao's nervousness is gone, replaced with a cold haughtiness, and he's beautiful in his self righteousness. "I never took anything I didn't deserve," he states. "I _earned_ it. You have no idea what --" he cuts himself off, pressing his lips together tightly until they start to pale. "I earned it," he finally repeats. "You don't get to judge me when you have no idea." 

"You're so much better than this, Zitao," is all Minseok can think to say. 

Now Zitao laughs, but it's bitter around the edges. "Am I? You don't think I'm more than that. I'm the boy who's okay to fuck, but not the boy who you can be seen with in public. Don't tell me what you think I'm worth because you've already shown me. So why are you here? What do you want?"

"I just wanted… I don't know…"

"If you're worried about my intentions towards you - don't. You don't have anything to worry about. It was just a game, but it's over now, I'm bored of it." 

"So when you said --"

Zitao interrupts him. "It was just part of the plan. I didn't mean it. I didn't mean anything." He shrugs, a ghost of a smirk on his face and the Zitao who's cocky and arrogant and self assured has returned. "I'm a criminal and a liar, remember?" 

Minseok doesn't believe him. Or maybe he just doesn't want to believe him. "I don't believe you."

"I'll prove it to you. I know how much money you have in your savings account." Zitao draws the figures in the air with his finger and Minseok goes cold. He's right. "That was all I was interested in," he continues. "But I've found a more interesting target, someone who has much, much more. You're no longer worth the effort." 

Later, when Minseok has a chance to think about it with the advantage of emotional distance, he would say that it makes no sense. Why would Zitao string him along for an entire year? Why would he waste all that time? But right then, where he finds his hands trembling from shock or anger or some other emotion that he can't quite define, all he can manage to say is, "Fuck you." 

He doesn't care that it's childish, that it's beneath him. Fuck him. Fuck Zitao for fooling him, fuck Zitao for lying to him, fuck Zitao for almost making Minseok fall for him. Thank fuck he hadn't.

His rage makes him act accordingly. "If I ever see you again, if I see that any of my stuff has been touched, I'll kill you," he threatens before storming out. 

Later, he'll think that perhaps the look in Zitao's eye might've been disappointment, but at the time he's too angry to care. 

 

*

 

In a different life, perhaps things would've ended another way. 

It's not though, and Minseok is not a man who lives his life through daydreams. And, truth be told, without Zitao nothing really changes for Minseok. He goes back to his usual life, his work, his friends, and everything is the same. Zitao doesn't reappear and if, occasionally, Minseok allows himself to regret his outburst the last time they met, it's too late to change it anyway. 

Maybe Zitao hadn't been lying - perhaps he truly meant to con Minseok and he'd meant nothing to him. And maybe Minseok wasn't lying either - perhaps he hadn't fallen for Zitao, had only come close before being faced with the person he truly was. 

Or maybe they'd both been lying. 

Sometimes when you play a game, there's no winner, only losers.


End file.
